Forever Is A Very Long Time
by heyitsafrog
Summary: John has an extremely hard time dealing with Sherlock's death. So he starts sending him messages.
1. Long Way Down

Hi. Well, Sherlock. I... I feel a bit odd doing this, but Molly said it might help. Oh, I've been talking to Molly lately. She is helping me through... Helping me through your death. There. I said it. Doesn't make it any more or less real though. I... I'm not coping, Sherlock. See what I've resorted to?! Texting you like this like you will ACTUALLY see it?! Sorry. I Just... I just want you back. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. -JW

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Me Again. You see, Sherlock, you were not only the smartest man i had ever met, you were the most human. I believe in Sherlock Holmes. There. You have me. You also have Mycroft, Molly, Mrs Hudson, LeStrade, and so, so many others. They have forums about you, Sherlock. Some are bad, yes, but some are good. Some are so very, very good. Moriarty is real. I don't know where he is, but he IS real. I understand now! Rich Brooks, Reichenbach. Clever. I guess you must have rubbed off on me- my detective skills are improving. But I will never be as good as you. No one ever will, to be honest. I miss you, Sherlock. And I hate knowing that after you have gone. -JW

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It was a long way down. St. Barts is at least 4 stories high. One question. Why? You said you faked Moriarty, but you didn't have to KILL YOURSELF OVER IT. What about me, Sherlock?! You left me behind. I... I keep seeing you. Out on the street, in the park, but I look away for one moment and you are gone. You haunt me. I see you in my sleep, in all of my dreams. The life we could have had! Travelling around the world, The Consulting Detective and The Doctor. Friends. Think of the cases we could have solved together! Damn it, Sherlock! We could of had a great life! You knew that! So WHY?! I'm just so angry! And then I remember you. Sometimes, I hate you for it. But then I realise that some things must happen. And I guess this is one of them. It was just such a long way down. -JW

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**Reviews and Suggestions would be appreciated, thanks! x**


	2. Fly

I feel trapped, Sherlock. All I have are psychologists, doctors, friends, not-friends, just everyone, telling me what to do. You Are Dead. I don't know what to do! You were the only one that could make me do whatever you wanted- I trusted you. With my life, Sherlock. I want to end it. Grab my gun out of the draw and just fire. Or maybe I'll go your way- off a building. Classy. Fly before you die, that sort of thing. It's ironic- I always knew that if I was to kill myself, I would jump. I've always wanted to fly. Do you think I could, Sherlock? -JW

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You confuse me. I... I didn't think you cared about me. After all, I was only your flatmate, your sidekick. But when you pulled those bombs off of me, in the pool, when you put your life at risk, for me, I knew. I knew you had some emotion in you, Sherlock. I feel so many different emotions towards you- anger. annoyance. confusion. hurt. care. and a few others I cant place just yet. God. Why? Why me? Why did all of this happen to me! Why did I have to meet you, like you, and lose you? Why? -JW

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I know what the other emotions are now. Respect. Admiration. Love. Yes Sherlock, you fool. That one emotion you don't feel. Love. It all make sense now, of course. I always felt a little happier when you praised me, when shop keepers mistook us for a couple. Ugh! Why did I have to realise this after you were gone?! Of course. You probably knew I did, didn't you?! Pupils dilating, all that. God damn it Sherlock! Why?! That stupid fall. I hope the fly was worth it. -JW

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**Suggestions Please? Thankyou! x**


	3. Home

**Thankyou for the reviews, favourites and follows. I do take them into consideration when writing. :)**

**enjoy!**

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I've been going to a councillor. Trying to get back to normal- whatever that is. My limp is back. Sherlock. I'm trying to get back on track. But every day, when I visit your gravestone, I feel like I swerve back off again. But I just can't bring myself to stop. You meant- mean so much to me, and I just can't let that go. I can't seem to understand why you did it. You and me both know how to disappear off the radar. Why not just run away with me when all this went down? And your 'note'. Oh god Sherlock, the call. That was the worst moment of my life, standing outside , watching my best friend prepare to jump off a roof, talking to him, and seeing your body hit the floor. I couldn't think right. I couldn't even breathe. I still can't. I'm dying without you. Please come home. -JW

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It rained today. The sky turned grey, and the heavens opened up. The sun rose today. It's setting right now. The birds sung today. People went to work. Children played. People were born. People died. You see, Sherlock. Life goes on without you. But I don't. Im suffocating in loneliness. Mycroft told me I need a girlfriend. I walked away. Donovan and Anderson finally had the nerve to come up to me today. They asked me how I was. I punched Anderson in the face, and slapped Donovan. Worthless scum. Why wasnt it you who lived? They deserved to be in your place. God, I miss you. -JW

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It's been 3 months, today. I still miss you, everyday. I still haven't cleaned out the flat. I sleep in your room, most of the time. Everyone has been encouraging me to go out with them, but I just can't bring myself to leave the flat. Im afraid if I leave, the whole memory of you will leave aswell. My councillor comes here. Delivery groceries. Sherlock. Come home. I refuse to let you stay away any more. 221B Baker Street is our home. Together. And I need you there. Im not dealing alone. I love you, Sherlock. Please come home. Or I will come to you. -JW


	4. Almost

**Chapter 4. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, favourites and follows! I really appreciate them!**

**Only a few chapters to go.**

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Sherlock. Everyone told me it would get easier. That I would be able to accept the fact that you are gone. Lying bastards. It's not getting any easier. Im taking medication. That's not helping either. The nightmares, they never stop. I hate to sleep, knowing that when I do, I'll be in a world of darkness and loneliness. But then I know, when I wake up, I'll be in the same situation. I hate this realizations after you have gone! We didn't even know each other for that long of a time, but without you it feels like im missing a part of my heart; my soul. Sherlock Holmes. Come home. This instant. Please. -JW

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They say I have PTSD again. I think it's just straight up insanity. Me, going mental, because of you. I wonder if you look down on me from heaven, or up from hell. I wonder what you would do in my place. 'Sherlock's Dead Doctor'. Ha. You would get over it though, wouldn't you. I was only your companion, nothing more. You never felt anything like the way I feel- felt to you. Manipulative bastard. I left the house for longer than an hour today. I had a panic attack and one of Mycrofts people took me home. It's nice to know he still cares about me, even when you don't. -JW

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Remember what I said before about coming to you? Well the time is coming. My biggest problem is to whom I leave the note with. Mycroft? Harry? Lestrade? No. I think I'll just leave one next to your grave. A nice sentiment, dont you agree? The voices are telling me to go. To jump of St. Bart's, just like you did, all those months ago. God, Sherlock. Why didnt I tell you I loved you? We had a magnificent time, so why do I feel so empty? Alone? Incomplete. I just can't deal with the ghost of you anymore. I'm so sorry. It's almost time to go, Mister Holmes. And I am ready. -JW

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**Please Review! X**


	5. Apologies

**Hello amazing people! 1 Chapter and the epilogue after this one. Reviews are so kind, and thankyou for all the favourites and follows :). The 3rd part of this chapter is a voice recording.**

**Much love .x**

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My mind is a corrupt palace, full of lost hope and regret. Oh the things we could have done, the places we could have been. Too late. Too god damn late, Sherlock. I am done. I am so over it all. 'The dye is cast'. 5 days from now, I will go to the hospital. Yes, the very same one you flew off of. I will evade sight. I will climb the steps, one by agonizing one, wondering what you were thinking when in my place. What you were thinking in that big, human brain of yours. Definately not the same things as me. I'll leave a recorded message on my phone, telling people. How I just couldn't go on after you had gone. The only thing I will be thinking is how much I love- loved you, and how nothing else will matter, how it will be all over, I will be in a better place, with you, when I fly. The anticipation is almost killing me, Sherlock. Pardon the pun. And I just can't wait. -JW

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2 days down... 3 to go. I am practically radiating excitement. I will finally see you again. The dreams will stop. It will go back to the way it was, just in a different place. I haven't told anyone. No one will miss me. Mycroft thinks I'm getting better. Ding dong, he is wrong... I have another question for you, actually. Where is Jim Moriarty? I would have been sure that he would have contacted me by now, if only to make threats. Soo many questions left unanswered. Soo many lies, secrets. Oh. Why did you leave me? WHY?! I've got to go now. I'm actually just about to record the 'goodbye' message. I will be sure to send you a copy, Sherlock. Please, enjoy. But not too much. -JW

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_*Uh, hello. This is... John Watson. And this is my note. Because that's what people do, isn't it. Uh, first. To Greg Lestrade. Thankyou for trying to help me, and please don't feel bad that I am doing this. To Harry. I'm sorry. For everything. Mrs Hudson. The best landlady in London. Thankyou for giving me the flat. Mycroft. You have really gone out of your way to care about me lately. And, um... I'm very grateful. But there is only one person I need right now. And that person is dead. Sherlock Holmes. I loved you. I... I am doing this for the greater good, if only to see you once more. I will miss everyone dearly... But none as much as I've missed Sherlock in the past few months. Please, forgive me like I never forgave him. I believe in Sherlock Holmes. Apologies to all. Goodbye. John Watson.*_


	6. Goodbye

Sherlock. Today is the day. In 2 hours, I will be dead. No more waiting. No more wanting. Just you. Just pure bliss. I am shaking in excitement. I want to do it sooner, but I know if I stray off schedule someone will stop me. And that just can't be allowed to happen. I suppose I will miss some things. Mycroft, Lestrade, Molly, Mrs Hudson. But I would give all of them up in an instant if only to be with you. And I will be, soon! I will miss 221B Baker Street, our home. I'll miss the comfort of family. But no more than I miss you now. The dreams have been more frequent, in anticipation for this. 1 and a half hours to go. Are you excited for me, Sherlock? Do you even want to see me again? If you do, do not fear. Soon. I will be with the one I love. Soon. -JW

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I'm taking the taxi to St. Bart's now. I am trembling. In fear? In anticipation? In anxiety? Well it won't matter soon, anyway. Soon it will all be over! I will be with you, my love. Now I shall leave you. The final message. I love you, and I will see you soon. But just in case I go to hell while you are in heaven. Sherlock Holmes. I have never, and will never know a man as brilliant as you. You changed me for the better, and I will never forget that. If I could turn back time, I would stop you. I would tell you how much I respected, admired, loved you, when you were still here to see it. Sherlock, damn it. I would have held you so close, never let you go. Never let you make the mistakes you did. Never let you out of my sight. In an ideal world, I would have confessed my love. You would have loved me back. We would still be living together, in peace, the Detective and his Doctor. Pipe dreams, I know. But lovely to imagine. It is time. I am here. Never forget you, Sherlock Holmes. This is my note. Goodbye Sherlock. -JW

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John put the phone in his pocket, and climbed to the roof. He walked up to the ledge, the very same ledge that Sherlock had jumped off, so many months before. He stood up on it. Took a deep breath. He heard shouting momentarily coming from behind him, but payed it no attention, after all, he had no reason to stay. He raised his arms. Took another deep breath. And began to fly.

**THIS IS NOT FINISHED, DO NOT FRET MY LOVELIES. x**


	7. Always

**Sorry this took so long! School has been getting in the way... and sorry it is so short :3  
**Hope you enjoy. Just the epilogue after this. Wow. First story almost done!  
Thanks!

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Flashes. That is what John expected to see as he flew off the ledge. He wanted to see his life flash before his eyes. He wanted to see all of the good times he had had with Sherlock. He wanted closure. He wanted peace. He wanted him. What he instead got, was a pair of strong arms grasping him around the waist, hauling him back onto the roof, falling backward onto a long, thin body, and a flash of black, curly hair before he blacked out.

John woke up to the sounds of monitors beeping softly. 'Ugh' he murmured. A face came into view. A fuzzy face, at first, but then it became quite... Recognizable. John was in shock. 'S-s-Sherlock?!' He stuttered out. The Sherlock-figure nodded. 'Hello John' he smiled his beautiful, radiant smile. 'So I did die?' John mumbled from his hospital bed. The almost-Sherlock frowned. John didn't like that. "No, you idiot. I didn't."  
John was in a state of shock and confusion.  
"B-But I saw you jump, Sherlock, I SAW YOU! I saw you fall off the top of St. Bart's, right before my eyes. How...how the hell..." John trailed off.  
Sherlock smirked and tapped his nose. "Mycroft's secrets, my dear Watson."  
John frowned. "Bu- But I've waited so long, Sherlock! And... And oh my god... Oh my god you saw the texts!"  
Sherlock nodded.  
"John. John I am so sorry. Moriarty was about to kill you and Lestrade and Mrs Hudson and he said that the only way out was to die. I had to dissapear, had to do it until I knew you would be safe. I... I love you too John" He said looking down. "I did all of this, everything, for you."  
John looked at his hands. And promptly punched Sherlock in the face. "You idiot." He whispered before grabbing his face and kissing the taller man passionately.  
"Never. Ever. Leave me again, you hear?" He demanded, looking into Sherlock's eyes. "Stay with me."  
"Always, John." Sherlock whispered in return, a single tear running down his face.


End file.
